Impossible to Move On
by CC.V.RG
Summary: Celebrian, the wife of Lord Elrond, left unexpectedly from the boundaries of this world, leaving those she loved behind in their grief. Small snapshots of how the Elves of Lothlorien, Mirkwood, & Rivendell dealt with her death. Rating is only for safety! Currently on hiatus.
1. Elrond

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognizable characters mentioned or used in this story. Any characters or events that bare a resemblance to real people or…other stuff…then it's purely by coincidence.**

**Hi everybody! I've decided to finally write this story that I've had on my mind for a while. I'm planning it to be multi-POV, with a couple of chapters, centering around Celebrian's sailing, and the effects on everybody who knew her. I'm accepting requests for characters!**

**Ok, here we go!**

Chapter 1 – Elrond

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**The hour of departure has arrived and we go our separate ways; I to die, and you to live. Which is better? Only God knows.**

**~ Socrates**

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Gone.

She's gone.

It's final. My love, my life, my star…gone.

…

How did it come to this? I always knew the world was cruel, but…I never knew such evil could exist. I never knew that I could feel this sad.

"Sad" doesn't even begin to describe it. I feel _empty_. Lost…like I'm drifting with nowhere to go…with no purpose left.

…

Celebrian told me that I had to move on: to not lose hope. But how can I move on? How can I possibly continue with my life as if nothing ever changed?

My wife is gone, my soul-mate, my dearest, beautiful, Celebrian. Just the thought of that wondrous name makes my chest ache. A hole ripped there mercilessly by her absence. Every day it just grows larger…every time I hear her name the hole is spread wider…slowly eating away at me…consuming me with darkness.

Celebrian Celebrian Celebrian Celebrian…

Why can I not stop thinking her name, then? If it causes me such pain…why can't I simply stop?

_Because you deserve to hurt…you should be punished for your insolence, Elrond._ A small voice in the back of my head whispers. _You weren't fast enough to reach her…you, the almighty Healer of Middle-Earth, couldn't even stop your own wife's internal bleeding._

"Why…why couldn't I stop it?" I murmured to myself numbly, not moving from my place on the bench, in the garden where Celebrian and I used to—

I wince. There, there's another stab of pain.

_All you had to do was assign a few more guards as she departed. That was all you had to do: just add five more warriors to the caravan. You could've spared five extra. It would have been worth it…five less soldiers here in exchange for the life of Celebrian._

I sobbed once, covering my face in my hands. "Oh, Celebrian! Why…why'd you have to go? Why'd you have to leave? There's nothing left for me here…_nothing!_ Not without you!"

I waited for a few moments, almost expecting the beautiful scent of lilacs and fresh rain to come drifting over…for my darling to rest a comforting hand on my shoulder and rock back and forth, as if I was a child.

But it never came. There was no one to pull me out of the darkness. No one left.

And so I simply continued sobbing…after all, what else was there to do?

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**Yeah, I know it's really short. But the chapters will get longer as I continue, and they'll get a lot deeper into the characters…I just thought that Elrond would be kinda masochistic and almost "delirious" after Celebrian's sailing.**

**Please review! Any type of criticism is welcome! *smiles***

**~CC.**


	2. Elladan

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any of the recognizable characters mentioned or used in this story. Any characters or events that bare a resemblance to real people or…other stuff…then it's purely by coincidence.**

**Alright, here we go for the next chapter. I don't even know how many people are reading this, but what the hell. I'd still write it if no one was reading it!**

Chapter 2 – Elladan

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**The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her.**

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Sometimes…I don't really know who I am.

I don't mean that literally, of course. It's quite obvious who I am in a physical sense. Elladan Elrondian, the Eldest Star of Rivendell, the son of the renowned Elrond Peredhil, and grandson of the almighty Lady Galadriel. Legends have been written and sung about my bravery in battle, and my kind heart towards others. And yet…that _isn't_ who I am. At least…not _now_.

Minstrels sing of my supposed "kind heart", towards "all" creatures…oh yes, that is a joke. If I have such kindness in me, why do I enjoy it so much when we slaughtered the band of Orcs that tortured my mother?

Ah, Lady Celebrian…my beautiful, beloved, truly kind Nana **| Mama |**. What had she done to this world…to the Valar, to make them decide _**THIS **_as her fate? My mother would never willingly hurt a fly, and our almighty gods decide to do this to her?

Fury mingles with my blood, and pumps through my veins with such force and heat that every else is immediately burned from my mind. There is no time for such thoughts of remorse. No time for sorrow. Now there is only anger. And revenge…yes, such sweet revenge.

My brother twitches eagerly to my right as we zone in on our prey. A brigand of Orcs: only about a dozen. Miniscule, for this part of the Hithaeglir…and for my own taste. I preferred triple this size when it came to exacting revenge. Best to just barely get out alive; then to be left unfulfilled when all the killing was done.

Elrohir meets my gaze, his eyes mirroring my own red hot desire to destroy. We don't waste another second. One moment we are crouching silently, sizzling in our contempt. And the next, cold black blood was erupting from everywhere around me as my nearly imperceptible sword stabbed the ravaged bodies again and again.

The familiar feeling of frenzied, adrenaline-caused anger settled down upon me; my vengeance now not only directed at the Orcs in general, but each individual beast. I made sure every one died a more painful death than the last.

I don't know how long this particular battle lasted—in truth, there had been so many since Nana's departure, that they all melded together into one big scene of violence. It couldn't have lasted longer than ten minutes: the band was again, very small.

And because of that, I was—as usual—left unsatisfied. Adrenaline and rage continued to pulse through my body, but I no longer had an outlet for such emotions. With an unpleasant grimace, I forced a neutral, stoic and cold mask onto my face. If my twin discovered my lack of fulfillment, he would surely go out and search for more Orcs.

And regardless of the malicious glee that bought up in me, we could not tarry here any longer. Elrohir and I had already been absent from Rivendell for three months, and with Arwen leaving for Lothlórien in a few days…our father would be left relatively alone, without any of his family at his side.

After my mother's sailing, her children, Elrohir, Arwen, and I—along with the guidance of our grandmother in Lórien—had all agreed that our father was not to be left alone in Rivendell without at least one family member, or close friend, nearby. Ada **| Papa |** has taken Nana's passing the worst of us all. He barely speaks anymore, and when he does, it is because of urgent business, or grief. Our grandmother first worried that he would begin to fade as well.

But my Father—my brave, _kind_ father—is also stronger and more resilient than that. He would get through this. He had to. We were all watching out for him, although it didn't seem like it at first glance.

All of the family had agreed to take "shifts" throughout the years, without Ada's knowledge of course. Elrohir and I for the beginning months; Arwen, Glorfindel, and Erestor for the next; then Lady Galadriel for a few more…and then my dearest friend, Legolas, along with his older brother, Bellsulion, had volunteered to stay with Father for the last months, when most warriors were on raids.

_Yes, Elladan…very good…deep, soothing breaths…think of them…of Ada, Arwen, Glorfindel, Legolas, Daernana… _**Grandmother |**

I repeated the names in my head like a forced mantra, but my efforts were soon worth it. I breathed out in relief as the last remaining bits of anger drained from my body. Thinking of my family and friends back home always calmed me down, even when in the most furious of moods.

"Elrohir." I said softly, stepping behind my twin and placing a hand on his trembling shoulder. "Please, gwador **| brother |**…we must return to Rivendell. 'Tis already been too long."

Elrohir, always the truly strongest and kind one, nodded slowly, catching his breath and control much easier than I had. _He shouldn't even be here_, I thought to myself, lamenting inwardly. _This killing will eat him alive._

_/ And yet, you will not believe this of your own self, 'Dan? /_

I nearly jumped in surprise: I hadn't been intentionally projecting my thoughts…perhaps Elrohir had simply read my vulnerable mind. And yet, as much as it made sense…I could not bring myself to agree to his words.

"Ro—" I started sullenly, "—there is too much anger inside of me. You must understand this, brother: if I do not kill those responsible for Nana's death…then I will hurt someone else. Someone I love. And I cannot risk that. Surely you must understand this."

Elrohir didn't respond, but as he turned away towards our home, I had this feeling in the back of my mind which told me exactly what he had wanted to say.

_/ Are you _really_ afraid of hurting someone you love? Or of someone you love, hurting you? /_

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_/ italics /_**- Mind-speak between the twins.**

**Nana – Mama**

**Ada – Papa**

**Daernana – Grandmother**

**Gwador – Brother**

**Alright, this one is a little bit longer, but it's still too short for my taste—the actual chapter is 988 words, while my first chapter was only 398, so there was improvement. **

**As to the actual content…it is said a lot (through fanfiction, and Tolkien himself) that Elladan and Elrohir spent decades—maybe centuries—avenging their mother's torture and sailing. So I decided to make it a little…'fiery'.**

**Again, any reviews are welcome!**

**~CC.**


	3. Elrohir

**Disclaimer: ****I do not own any of the recognizable characters mentioned or used in this story. Any characters or events that bare a resemblance to real people or…other stuff…then it's purely by coincidence.**

**Ok, here's the next one that I cooked up (just for pure pleasure—there's only like, 5 people reading this anyway…lol). It's actually pretty fun writing these…hee hee.**

Chapter 3 – Elrohir

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**Confront the dark parts of yourself, and work to banish them with illumination and forgiveness. Your willingness to wrestle with your demons will cause your angels to sing. Use the pain as fuel, as a reminder of your strength.**

**~ August Wilson**

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The distinct feeling of tears sliding down my cheek is one that I have become accustomed to over these few months: although I had cried very infrequently in the centuries past.

In truth, tears were once a very foreign feeling to me…I would see my friends shed them, and feel strangely intrusive—and embarrassed. I don't really know why. It was as if I thought crying was something to be ashamed of.

There was really only one circumstance that I had cried back then: and I mean really _sobbed_.

It was a few centuries ago…Legolas's mother, Queen Lairënuriel of Greenwood, was brutally slaughtered by a band of Goblins who had attacked the palace and kidnapped Legolas's sister, Alasiel (who, ironically, made it out alive). There was never any hope of her survival: she was dead before Thranduil even had a chance to send out warriors. And yet…even after all the tears were shed and done with, for years afterward, Legolas continued to blame himself.

"If I had just been a little faster…just a little braver…maybe I could've saved her!" He would shout at my brother and me continuously, even when Thranduil sent him to live in Rivendell for the years following Lairënuriel's death. It took decades upon decades for us to rid him of a fraction of the guilt he still carried. I don't think I had ever really understood why this weighed him down so: there was nothing he could've done, so why over obsess about it?

I understand _now_, of course. Now that it's happened to me.

At least Queen Lairënuriel's death was quick—almost completely painless. _My_ Nana **| Mama |** had to suffer…for days at the hands of those monstrous, vile creatures. The _orcs_.

The mere thought of that horrible, evil word sent fiery hot flashes up my spine; and sent my mind spinning with a nearly crazed want—_need_—for revenge. How any Firstborn could possibly feel such searing hatred was beyond me: a lot of things were beyond me now.

There was no doubt in my mind that my twin's emotions were even worse: Elladan loved—and hated—more passionately than I did: always had, always will. This was not a good thing, however, when Nana **| Mama|** sailed: Dan fell farther and harder than I did, and I believe that he's still fumbling around in the dark for a light.

I think that over these past few months, I've gotten better. All of us have, really. Ada **| Papa |** does not brood as much as he did before (and sometimes, I even see him smile again); Erestor and Glorfindel are back to their usual, bickering ways; Arwen stays in Rivendell much more often and longer than she used to; and Legolas has returned to his bright, cheerful self again. Anger continues to burn inside of me: that is true…but now, it does not _destroy_. It simply burns, and keeps me warm. Sometimes I'm grateful that I _do_ feel rage: it's so much better than feeling nothing at all.

But I digress: I do believe Rivendell is a much lighter place than it was just a few months ago. We are rising up out of the once smothering darkness—very slowly, yet surely—and the more I think of the circumstances of our anger, the more I believe that it is somewhat misplaced. Truly, we were quite lucky that we reached Nana **| Mama |** in time. We could have lost her forever to the impenetrable barriers of Lord Mandos's Halls, as Legolas had lost his mother. But Lady Celebrian of Rivendell was able to sail—and to heal—in the paradise of the Undying Lands.

"_This is not the end, my son," she had whispered to me. "Elrohir…we are all reunited under joyous Anor _**| the Sun |**_, in the end…someday, we will be together in Paradise…"_

I sighed and shook my head out of the memories as I wandered around Rivendell's gardens. "…But until then," I finished her departing sentence with a small murmur. "…you must be strong…loving…and kind."

_I know, Nana…But I don't know how I could possibly do as you wish. It seems as if I am too angry, and __too_ strong_ to be either loving, nor kind._

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**Nana – Mama**

**Ada – Papa**

**Anor – the Sun**

**Sorry it took me so long to write this one (and it wasn't even that long…only 707 words…). I'm not quite sure if I like this chapter's ending…oh well. I hope **_**somebody**_** enjoys it…*wink***

**Please review!**

**~ CC. **


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